Returning from the rear courtyard, Jiang Fa went straight to the kitchen and asked Old Zhang, who managed it, for ten dry flatbreads, a small bag of salt, and a piece of flint.
Old Zhang glanced at him without asking anything, then fished a small earthenware jar out from beneath the stove and pressed it into his hands. He said it held the pork cracklings left over from rendering lard yesterday; tucked into the flatbreads, they would keep hunger at bay for a few more days.
Jiang Fa thanked him, packed everything up, and made another trip to an apothecary in the western market.
Not Precious Ganoderma Hall, but an inconspicuous little shop deep in an alley. Its frontage was as narrow as a knife scar, without even a signboard, only a faded gourd hanging by the entrance.
Its wound medicine was thirty percent cheaper than Precious Ganoderma Hall's, and worked no worse.
Jiang Fa bought three packets of wound medicine and two antidote pills, then asked the shopkeeper for a small bottle of insect-repelling powder. Altogether, it cost him one tael and two mace of silver.
Back in his room, he spread everything out on the bedboards.
Ten dry flatbreads, a jar of pork cracklings, and a small bag of salt.
Three packets of wound medicine, two antidote pills, and a bottle of insect-repelling powder.
An oxhide waterskin filled with cooled boiled water.
A coil of hemp rope, a fire tube, and a small packet of flint.
He packed the dry rations and medicines separately, wrapped them in three layers of oiled paper, and stuffed them into a coarse cloth bundle.
His broad saber hung at his waist,
the coarse hemp cord wound around its handle already worn black and shiny. It felt rough and dug into his palm, yet gave him an indescribable sense of solidity.
Once everything was ready, he sat on the edge of the bed and opened the map booklet. By the light coming through the window, he studied it again from beginning to end.
Black Wind Ridge's terrain was not particularly complicated.
Leaving through Qingshan County's north gate, one followed the main road for twenty li, turned onto an abandoned logging trail, and walked another fifteen li to reach the entrance to Black Wind Ridge's outer reaches, a place the locals called "Ghost Gate Gully."
Ghost Gate Gully was a dry riverbed. Flash floods had scoured the cliffs on either side into all manner of bizarre shapes that looked like twisted human faces from afar,
and when the wind passed through the gully, it made strange, sobbing sounds like ghosts wailing. That was how it had earned its name.
Beyond Ghost Gate Gully, one had truly entered Black Wind Ridge.
Ordinary people generally did not venture here. Most who came were martial artists with fighting skills to rely on.
The outer thirty li belonged to Iron-Backed Wolves and Azure-Maned Jackals.
Another twenty li inward, the terrain rose and the forest thickened, and signs of Iron-Claw Savage Bears and Crimson-Scaled Pythons began to appear.
Beyond the creek in the middle section of Black Wind Ridge, marked "Beheading Creek" on the map, lay the core region.
Beside Beheading Creek on that map, Lin Feng had drawn a thick red line in cinnabar,
with a four-character annotation beside it: cross the creek and die.
Jiang Fa rolled up the map, tucked it into his robe, and rose to leave.
As he passed the training ground, Lin Feng was still practicing his saber.
The cold gleam of his goose-feather saber traced arcs beneath the shade of the trees, as swift as lightning.
Seeing him with a bundle on his back and a saber at his waist, Lin Feng brought his saber to a halt and called from a distance, "Be careful out there!"
Jiang Fa nodded without stopping.
He left the martial school, headed north along the main street, passed the vegetable market entrance, and went out through the northern city gate.
Vast wheat fields stretched along both sides of the main road. The wheat had already been harvested, leaving only rows of withered yellow stubble with a dry sheen beneath the sunlight.
Several tenant farmers were driving oxen to turn the fields. The plowshares scraped through the hard, dry soil with a monotonous, grating sound.
After roughly two hours of walking, a fork appeared on the right side of the main road, with a crooked stone marker standing at its entrance,
carved with the words "Logging Trail," the characters worn indistinct by wind and rain.
The side trail was overgrown with weeds half a person's height. Clearly, no one had used it in a long time.
Jiang Fa turned onto the logging trail and slowed his steps a little.
This trail was much narrower than the main road. The trees on either side grew increasingly dense, their interlaced crowns concealing most of the sky. Sunlight broke into countless tiny patches that flickered across the ground.
The smell of rotting leaves filled the air.
After roughly ten li, the forest had grown so dense that almost no sunlight reached him.
His surroundings were unnaturally quiet. Not even birdsong could be heard, only his own footsteps and breathing.
Jiang Fa stopped.
He stood motionless, his right hand slowly settling on the saber hilt at his waist.
The bushes to his left shook violently. Three Azure-Maned Jackals, gray-green all over with scarlet eyes, sprang out together from the bushes taller than a man and slowly approached in a triangular formation.
One was particularly powerfully built, every hair of its neck mane standing on end. It bared a mouthful of yellow teeth, low whines rumbling from its throat.
First-tier, low-level ferocious beasts: Azure-Maned Jackals.
Jiang Fa's heart sank.
These ferocious beasts were several times larger than ordinary jackals or wolves, with sharp claws that could easily tear through flesh.
They always hunted in packs. Only three appearing now meant more companions were very likely hiding nearby, waiting for their chance to act.
He did not move.
Senior Brother Lin Feng had said that when facing pack-dwelling ferocious beasts, one must not strike first.
Once you moved, they would find an opening. If you stood still, they would hesitate instead.
The three Azure-Maned Jackals slowly circled him, their sharp claws rustling through the dead leaves,
as though testing him, or searching for the best angle to attack.
Jiang Fa drew a deep breath, his gaze fixed firmly on the largest jackal, the pack leader.
The rule of the jianghu: to catch the bandits, first catch their king.
His right foot slid half a step back, his knees bent, and his center of gravity sank. The earth beneath his feet silently depressed half an inch.
The sinking force of the Mountain-Breaking Stance instantly coursed through both legs, pinning his entire body firmly to the ground.
Just then, the jackal king moved.
Its hind legs kicked hard, its body becoming a gray-green afterimage as it opened its bloody maw and lunged straight for Jiang Fa's throat.
At the same time, the Azure-Maned Jackals to his left and right attacked together, one pouncing at his lower leg, the other snapping at his flank.
Their coordination was seamless, their roles clearly divided.
This was precisely the moment Jiang Fa had been waiting for.
His waist and hips twisted sharply, and his right fist smashed forward like a heavy hammer,
the seventh form of the Mountain-Breaking Fist, the Mountain-Hammering Form, whose power had surged after he reached minor achievement,
its force splitting the air with a piercing crack as it struck the jackal king squarely in the skull.
With a dull thump, the jackal king's massive skull caved in beneath that punch. Blood and shattered bone sprayed from its eye sockets and nostrils.
Before it could even howl, its entire body flew backward like a kite with its string severed, slammed into a tree trunk, and slid to the ground. Its limbs twitched a few times, then fell still.
Killed with a single punch.
Jiang Fa did not pause for an instant.
His right fist had barely withdrawn when his left foot swept out hard, striking the belly of the Azure-Maned Jackal lunging at his lower leg from the left.
The kick sent the jackal flying sideways, its ribs snapping audibly. It tumbled twice through the air and hit the ground with whimpering howls. It struggled a few times but could no longer stand.
The third jackal had already reached his flank. Its sharp claws tore through his fitted martial attire, leaving three shallow white marks on the body tempered by the Seven-Colored Glazed Glass Art.
Nothing more.
Jiang Fa drove an elbow backward into its spine, smashing it hard into the ground.
Before it could struggle to its feet,
Jiang Fa stamped hard on its neck, then drove a fist down.
Bang!
His punch smashed the Azure-Templed Jackal's skull to pieces.
Blood instantly splattered across the ground.
From the jackal king's attack to all three Azure-Maned Jackals being killed, only five or six breaths had passed.
Jiang Fa withdrew his fist and stood, his cold gaze sweeping over the three jackal corpses. His chest heaved violently, not from exhaustion, but from the killing intent surging within him.
He waited where he stood for a moment, only slowly releasing a breath once he confirmed there was no more movement in the bushes.
[Mountain-Breaking Fist (Mid Yellow Grade) · minor achievement (401/500)]
Sensing the increase in his Mountain-Breaking Fist,
Jiang Fa felt a little pleasantly surprised. Sure enough, life-and-death combat could also increase his martial arts progress.
He examined them briefly,
and found that these three Azure-Maned Jackals were probably stragglers cast out of the main pack. Otherwise, there would certainly have been more than three.
If he encountered a full pack of seventeen or eighteen, with his current strength, he would probably have no choice but to flee in disarray.
Jiang Fa crouched and rummaged through the jackal king's skull a few times with his saber tip, but found no beast core.
He was not particularly disappointed. First-tier, low-level ferocious beasts had an extremely low chance of forming a beast core, so this was only to be expected.
The three Azure-Maned Jackal pelts were worth some silver, though. In good condition, each could sell for around five taels.
Jiang Fa crouched and carefully skinned the three Azure-Maned Jackals, then carefully wrapped the pelts in the grease wrapping he had prepared beforehand and carried them on his back.
Once everything was done, he rubbed the blood off the soles of his shoes with dead leaves.
Then he took up his broad saber and continued forward.
The logging trail ended at a sheer cliff with a gap two people wide, as though someone had split it open with a giant axe.
Beyond the gap lay a dry riverbed covered in pebbles of all sizes, with clumps of withered yellow weeds growing between the stones.
This was Ghost Gate Gully.
The wind passed through the gully with strange, sobbing sounds, as though something were crying.
Jiang Fa stood before the gap and glanced back the way he had come.
The sun had already slanted westward. The logging trail lay submerged in dark tree shadows, and nothing could be seen clearly.
He turned back and stepped into Ghost Gate Gully.